


In the Parlance of Our Times

by whenyoudesertme (phrenk)



Category: Arashi (Band), Japanese Actor RPF, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-17
Updated: 2010-07-17
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:32:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phrenk/pseuds/whenyoudesertme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"It's Aiba-chan," Nino said. "I have called this meeting in order to discuss certain measures I may find necessary to implement where he is concerned."</i> Nino weasels Sho into helping him woo Aiba.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Parlance of Our Times

**Author's Note:**

> Title from The Big Lebowski. Looked through by the lovely [miscetera](http://miscetera.livejournal.com). Originally posted [here](http://whenyoudesertme.livejournal.com/16873.html).

Sho should have known better than to trust a Nino who offered to treat him to dinner.

The second tip off (with number one being that it was _Nino_ , and while Nino paid for food sometimes he never [honestly] offered to do so in advance) was that he asked Sho to pick him up. The third was the text that asked him to come up to Nino's place instead of waiting below. The fourth was, again, that it was Nino, which was forcibly brought back to Sho when he saw that pointy little face at the door. The fifth, and final, was the sight of the instant ramen gracing Nino's ugly vinyl-topped table.

"Please, sit down," Nino said sweetly, watching Sho's thoughts flash across his face. Sho didn't even bother whining about the ill treatment, just heaved a sigh and sat, thinking of all the other things he could be doing with his free time. (Though he admitted to himself that if Nino had been honest about the nature of the evening, he still would have come. Best friends were best friends even when one was a manipulative rascal.) At Nino's gleeful chortle Sho looked up, startled, only to realize that Nino was still reading Sho's expressions like they were a book written just for him. Sho flushed.

"What do you want, anyway?" he said, none too gracefully.

"It's Aiba-chan," Nino said. "I have called this meeting in order to discuss certain measures I may find necessary to implement where he is concerned."

"You mean we're plotting," Sho said, unimpressed. He was also curious and he knew Nino could hear it. "Oh, just tell me."

An unaccountable pink graced Nino's cheekbones. "I'm sure you already know that I have designs on Aiba-chan in a more than friendly way--and if you didn't, well, you do now so _shut up._ " Sho tried not to laugh, but he didn't put much effort into it and Nino's face went from rosy to an embarrassed flush.

"What, you need my help to woo Aiba-chan?" Sho chuckled.

Nino glared. "I thought that an idiot might be needed to plan the coercion of another idiot. You know, think on his level."

"Coercion? You don't think that Aiba-chan returns your feelings?"

"Pssh, of course he likes me, I'm delightful," Nino said, not meeting Sho's eyes.

"If you know he likes you, why don't you just ask him out?"

"There's nothing wrong with making sure he'll say yes," Nino said. Sho let it go in favor of stuffing his mouth full of increasingly room temperature noodles.

Nino made impatient noises at him. "We need a plan of attack. First, what's Aiba's weak spot?"

Sho said glibly, "Porn," and immediately regretted it at the way Nino's eyes lit up.

" _Porn_ ," Nino breathed. "... do you think he'd want to be the one fixing the cable or the one whose cable needs fixing?"

"I think that is between you and Aiba-chan," Sho said, trying to put a stop to his role in this farce. He stuffed more noodles in his mouth. He was right to rush the food because the next thing Nino did was replace the ramen with a pen, paper, and a verbal demand for an airtight script.

An hour later Sho was sure that he'd talked more about the _plot_ of pornographic movies than anyone ever had before. He stood at Nino's door, trying to extricate himself from the situation, while Nino tried to wheedle him into staying.

"Sho-chan," Nino said persuasively. "You look sweaty. You should use my shower before you go."

"Nino, I am NOT having a threesome with you and Aiba-chan. I do not care what you made me write in the script."

"Sho-chan," Nino crooned ridiculously, batting his eyelashes. Sho laughed and pulled Nino into a one-armed hug. Nino's nerves were adorable, even if he'd punch Sho for saying it. (Not in the face, though, Nino was always aware of his responsibilities as an idol.)

"Good luck, Nino." Sho darted away before Nino could latch on, waving as he went.

* * * * * * * *

Nino closed the door and took a deep breath. Then he fished his phone out from his pocket and called Aiba.

"Aiba-chan, my drain is clogged--no, I am not watching baseball, what's the score? Wait, shut up, shut up, Aiba-chan, my drain is clogged. Could you come over and fix it?" His fingers drummed nervously against his leg and he hoped his voice wasn't as squeaky as it sounded in his head. At Aiba's puzzled but willing assent he pushed on.

"You should wear that jumpsuit you bought that one time when we--well, you know, to play the part! Oh, and you don't have a toolbelt, do you? Okay, just get over here ... I'll see you soon."

Nino went to take a shower. He felt tingly in a way that talking to Aiba tended to inspire and rubbery-legged in a way confessing did. Not that he was confessing, he was _coercing_ , and Aiba was going to say yes. Nino scrubbed at his skin determinedly.

The calm knock half an hour later undid any attempt at composure by Nino, who was perched awkwardly on his couch forcibly thinking about nothing. He sprang to his feet and nearly tripped over them before righting himself, irritated by his uncharacteristic clumsiness. The door opened a second later, Aiba apparently remembering you don't have to knock if you have a spare key, and Nino tried to drape himself enticingly against the wall.

Aiba came in and Nino caught his breath at the sudden realization that porn meant _sex._ Sex with Aiba. Aiba's cheeks were flushed a rosy pink and his hair was messy. His bright eyes looked like he'd thought of something funny he wanted to tell Nino more than he wanted to tell anyone else in the world. Nino didn't give him the chance, he took a deep breath and launched into the script without preamble.

"It is very hot in here, isn't it? I am quite compelled to take off my shirt. While you fix the drain. Please fix the drain of the bathroom sink and I will take off my shirt as you do it."

Aiba disregarded Nino's babble with a cheery, "All right!" and walked into the bathroom. Nino let out his breath shakily and shrugged off his shirt. It suddenly felt too hot in the room, even now that he was half-dressed, and he contemplated removing his jeans as well. This was forestalled by Aiba loping back into the room, looking confused.

"Nino, there was half a bagel stuffed in your sink," Aiba said, then choked, "And you are not wearing a shirt, I thought maybe I'd hallucinated you saying that."

Nino attempted a leer. "Aren't you hot, Aiba-san? You must have worked hard declogging the bagel--I mean, the sink. I will pour you some lemonade." Nino got the pitcher out from the fridge and grabbed the prepared glass. He handed the cup to Aiba and leaned in seductively.

"Oh no, I seem to have poured the lemonade all over your sexy jumpsuit," Nino said, then tipped Aiba's hand up deliberately. Aiba steadied it miraculously without spilling and gave a little cheer before flashing Nino a baffled look.

Nino sputtered. This was not the way the script went. His brain, usually so adept at improvising, was coming up blank of anything but the lines written in Sho's boyish scribbles an hour ago. "... maybe you should take it off?"

"That's all right, Nino," Aiba said slowly as if speaking to someone very drunk. He swiveled, searching desperately for something tangible to latch onto, then bounded across the room to clutch at a game controller. "I know, let's play Mario!"

Aiba wilted at the death glare Nino shot him as he grumbled his way over to his computer. Nino was ready to pull out all the stops. Sho had argued against this method but Nino was now sure it should have been done before Aiba even arrived.

Aiba stiffened as the music pumped through the speakers. The song had a strong beat and a lazy melody and back-up singers who sounded like they were in physical pain.

"Oh my god, Nino, are we in a porno?" Aiba squeaked, putting down his lemonade like he was worried he'd drop it.

" _Yes._ Take off your clothes, would you?"

Aiba started smacking himself against the temples with both hands. "I'm dreaming again, aren't I, shit, I'm not going to be able to look Nino in the eye tomorrow, why does this always happen--"

"You dream about me?" Nino asked, feeling something warm settle in his chest. His sense of balance seemed to have returned, given that he was walking toward Aiba with no problems, and it felt altered, like his inner ear had registered the fact that Nino now lived in world where coercing Aiba might not be necessary.

"Of course," Aiba said. "Well, you're not usually this stupid, though."

Nino kissed him, feeling those words shiver down his spine as he tasted Aiba's lip balm. Aiba gave a little choked noise before he caught on, as capable of following Nino's lead as ever.

* * * * * * * *

"What comes next?" Aiba asked, after a few long, satisfying minutes. He was a little breathless in a way that touched on Nino's long squashed urge to take care of him, as well as the simpler desire to get him out of his stylishly beat up jumpsuit.

"Nino?"

Nino looked up at Aiba's dark eyes, which somehow held confusion and excitement and a sweetness that Nino associated just with him. He felt clumsy again and he cursed inside, wondering why there were big life-changing moments if afterward everything didn't magically go smoothly.

"Script," Nino whispered. He broke away from Aiba, noticing with pleasure that Aiba's hands reached out like he didn't want to let go, and grabbed the crumpled page of the script from under his worn out baseball mitt. Holding the battered leather made him wish he had more time to play and he flashed to a newly more possible future, playing catch with Aiba someplace green and private before making out illicitly on a picnic blanket. He dropped the paper.

"Ah, a script! How much more plot do we have to get through before we have sex?" Aiba said cheerfully, seeming not to notice the way Nino nearly swallowed his own tongue. He grabbed the script from the floor and pored over it with great interest. "Let's see, drain, shirt off, lemonade, sexy jumpsuit..."

Suddenly Nino realized what came next in the script and he tried to snatch the page away, but Aiba held him off easily and began to read aloud.

"'Suddenly a man emerges from the bathroom and interrupts the sexy times. He says, _Oh, so sorry, I was just taking a shower._ The manly hero replies, _That's all right, we can have a sexy threesome. If I close my eyes I won't mind your sloping shoulders_ '--" Aiba broke off, goggling at the sheet of paper. Nino's hands were covering his face as much as possible as he hoped that this was some very roundabout dream and that he'd dreamed Aiba thinking he was dreaming as just a clever diversion.

At the sound of Aiba's high-pitched guffaw he peeked out, mouth curving up involuntarily despite his embarrassment. Concern surfaced when Aiba's laughs took on more of a choking tone but one flailing hand reached for his discarded lemonade and got some into his mouth without mishap. Nino's relief was short-lived as Aiba proceeded to spew the lemonade all over the carpet, hit by another spell of giggle fits.

"Are you kidding me?" Nino said, forgetting his nerves in his utter disbelief. "You're choking to death and you feel the need to ruin my rug on the way? Why not knock the lamp over with your freakish flailing limbs while you're at it! Who puts liquid in their mouth when they can't breathe, an _idiot_ \--" His words cut off abruptly as Aiba grabbed him tightly and squeezed, still shaking with laughter.

"Oh, Nino, I do like you," Aiba said happily. Nino sputtered. Aiba pulled away and grinned at him, unabashed, and Nino fixed on a scowl.

"This is the worst porn movie ever. You won't take off your clothes, you laugh at all my lines, and your gag reflex apparently leaves a lot to be desired. I expect you to clean up this mess, and I think you should do it with your stupid jumpsuit," Nino growled, ignoring the way his face itched to break into a beam.

"I'm not that attached to it anyway," Aiba said, still smiling. He began to open the top of his jumpsuit as Nino gaped, then stopped abruptly and shook a finger at Nino chidingly. "You shouldn't say that about my gag reflex, Nino, I've been practicing on bananas just like Sho-chan told me to."

"You talked to Sho-chan about _blow jobs_?" Nino said, horrified. " _Giving_ blow jobs?" He leaned close to Aiba unconsciously.

Aiba automatically leaned in as well, and they huddled together with the ease of two people who'd spent more than ten years practicing the art of tormenting (and being tormented by, and tormenting other people with) Sho. "Sure! Well, he said no at first but then he seemed worried that I'd choke myself to death."

"A real concern, seems to me," Nino said darkly. A thought struck him and he whirled, grabbing the script from where it had landed on the floor during Aiba's laugh attack before shaking it in Aiba's face. "Sho-kun told you to practice on bananas? Who did he think you were practicing for?"

"You, of course," Aiba said, fingers merrily unzipping before he kicked the jumpsuit off his legs.

"You mean Sho-kun KNOWS? And he wrote my porn script anyway?" Nino stared at Aiba, aghast, before his mouth quirked in amusement. His always unexpected flair for evil was one of the qualities Nino liked best in Sho. Nino began to devise some suitable retribution before Aiba dropped gracefully to his knees in front of him and the script dropped to the floor once again.

Aiba gave him a sly grin before he turned and began to dab at the lemonade stains with his jumpsuit and Nino nearly kicked him.

"Do that later, Aiba-chan," he said threateningly.

"Oh, but this will stain if I don't get it out now," Aiba said innocently.

Nino unceremoniously pushed Aiba to the floor and straddled him. "The housekeeper comes tomorrow. Put down the jumpsuit and nobody gets hurt," he said before the situation came back to him with full clarity. He was still shirtless, on top of Aiba, and Aiba wasn't wearing anything but a tight black pair of briefs. He was giving little wriggles under Nino like he could see what was going to happen in the near future and couldn't wait. Nino pressed his mouth to Aiba's, wondering what the hell was wrong with him that he'd spent the last ten minutes talking instead of exploring this mouth thoroughly. Aiba tasted like lemonade and the leftovers of his giggling outbreak and Nino pressed him further down against the carpet as he aligned their bodies and deepened the kiss. When Aiba pushed him away Nino gave a displeased noise and tried to bring their mouths back together but Aiba held him firmly away. Aiba's surprising strength gave him a dark thrill but Nino kept his face irritated, or as irritated as he could make it after being thoroughly kissed.

Aiba chuckled. "Nino-chan, we're on your living room floor. My back is all sticky and your stupid script may be melding itself to my skin by way of the lemonade you pushed me onto. ... Also your porn music is really not very sexy."

Nino flushed and sat up, disappointed, but Aiba pulled him back down, grinding their hips together and slipping his tongue into Nino's mouth persuasively. When he let go of Nino he smiled at Nino's dazed expression and said confidingly, "I know we're supposed to be doing porn but do you think we could break script and end this somewhere more traditional? Like, say, your bed. I would _really_ like to see your bed, Nino."

All Nino could manage was a fervent, " _Yes_ ," but that was all Aiba seemed to need. Before Nino knew it he was being carried to the bedroom, and instead of reiterating his manly hero status he wrapped his legs around Aiba's waist and busied his mouth pressing kisses to as much of Aiba's birthmark as he could reach, leaving the script stuck to the floor for the housekeeper to detach the next afternoon with well-paid disinterest.

They didn't make it to the bed before Aiba stopped, still holding Nino aloft with infuriating ease, and said musingly, "You know, there was one part of the script you didn't read, Nino."

Nino tightened his legs around Aiba. "Fuck the script. Fuck _me._ "

"Yes," Aiba said, and Nino was pleased to hear the harsh husk of Aiba's voice as his hips rolled forward instinctively. "But on the back--" Nino groped Aiba's ass possessively. "--of the script," Aiba breathed out unsteadily. "It said that you like me. Well, it said, 'The manly hero confessed his love with pink cheeks and a heaving bosom,' but I figure that's what Sho-chan meant."

Nino's head jerked up. "I don't have a bosom."

"I think everyone has a bosom," Aiba said thoughtfully. "It's where your nipples are." His hand sneaked around and tweaked one of Nino's nipples.

"Aiba-chan, if you don't put me down on the bed soon I am going to go find that script and change my name in it to Matsujun and mail it to everyone he knows, signed 'with love from Masaki'."

Aiba huffed and tossed Nino on the bed, not smiling even as Nino bounced and squawked. He managed to pout and push down his underwear at the same time, and Nino couldn't believe that he was getting an in-depth look at Aiba naked and couldn't enjoy it.

Nino sighed. "Aiba-chan, I stuffed half a bagel into my bathroom sink, of course I like you."

Aiba brightened ludicrously quickly and Nino allowed his eyes to trail down Aiba's body, lingering on his strong shoulders and long legs, as well as the places he'd seen frequently in passing (given Aiba's penchant for casual nudity) but never to his satisfaction. Within seconds Aiba had him pinned to the bed and was making him forget who he was with long, drugging kisses.

Then he pulled away yet again and Nino moaned helplessly at the loss. When Aiba got up from the bed Nino rolled over and buried his head in his arms, muttering about finding a new co-star for his next porno.

"Nino-chan, where's the camera?" Aiba said impatiently.

"Camera?" Nino asked without much hope for a logical answer, still hiding his head and berating himself inside for falling in love with an idiot with no attention span.

"I was thinking that Sho-chan really needs some new songs on his iPod," Aiba said solemnly. "If we recorded now and then ripped the sound into an mp3, don't you think we could make him a splendid song? You know, to thank him for not facilitating our sex lives months ago."

Nino rolled over and stared at him for a long beat. "You are the only one for me," he said seriously. The room echoed with Aiba's laughter as Nino pulled him down on the bed and began to prove it.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Swiss Watch](https://archiveofourown.org/works/324914) by [whenyoudesertme (phrenk)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phrenk/pseuds/whenyoudesertme)




End file.
